Sunkissed

by Daniels, Janelle

  She wasn’t in love with him, she quickly assured herself. But she knew that with little effort, she could be. She couldn’t allow that, couldn’t be that defenseless. Not to anyone.

  Besides, she couldn’t live at the orchard forever. It was beautiful, but she belonged in the city. Her business was there.

  You could work downtown and then come home here.

  “Want to watch something after dinner?” he asked between bites.

  “Do I get to pick this time? I don’t think I can do another Alien flick. I had no idea there were so many in the series.”

  He laughed. “Pick whatever you’d like.”

  “It’s probably a good thing that we watch something tonight. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be so busy, I’ll have to sleep at the studio. You won’t see me for weeks.”

  “You know,” he took another bite before continuing, “you could always work out of the house. Then you wouldn’t have to waste time commuting and you’d have more time to work.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. There isn’t enough room here.” She chuckled. “I spread out quite a bit when I work. Between the sketches, fabric, the works in progress, the completed items, mannequins, and accessories, it can overwhelm quickly.”

  “I thought as much. I cleared out a spot in the barn. It’s large and open. I think it could work for what you’d need. You’re welcome to check it out and use it if you like it.”

  She heard what he hadn’t said. He’d cleared it out for her. For this very purpose. He was trying to be casual about it. Trying not to push her into anything. And she appreciated it. The fact that he had thought of her need for space touched her.

  Standing, she rounded the table to him. “Thank you. You’re very thoughtful.” She touched her lips to his in a soft kiss, full with all the feelings coursing through her that couldn’t be expressed.

  He stood, returning her kiss with a long, deep pull of his own. The ache she felt for him intensified, coating her heart like warm syrup.

  He shifted, nuzzling her neck until her eyes rolled into her head. Nipping, he abraded her skin with tender love bites.

  “Geez, you’re good at that,” she moaned.

  He chuckled against her neck, the soft puffs of hair sent chills racing down her arms.

  Again, his mouth met hers, his urgent kisses leaving her reeling, but before she could compensate, he changed the tone again, easing back, savoring her lips as if they had all the time in the world. Off balance, she tried to gain her footings as sensations rippled through her.

  There were no words between them. None were needed.

  Over the past few weeks, she’d become familiar with him. His habits, his quirks, his kiss.

  But this felt new, different. She was floating, grasping for something to anchor her. But her hands only caught him.

  Her hands tested him. He was lean, strong. Just as he’d always been, but there was something more now. He was sturdy. His arms and legs were corded with thick muscles, but she felt safe in his arms, knowing he would never use force with her.

  She shivered, but not from the cold. Her skin was flushed, fevered from his hands, his kiss.

  She didn’t know what to expect from him. Could only follow as he guided her to wherever he wanted.

  She needed this, needed him in this moment.

  This is where I belong, her heart whispered.

  Unable to contain the emotion, she leaned toward him, linking her fingers with his as their mouths met again.

  She trembled, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming her.

  He pulled away, searching her eyes, her face. Her soul. Willing her to give him everything.

  She couldn’t stop her heart from opening, aching to give him whatever he asked for.

  With one last kiss, she surrendered the thing she had always kept locked away.

  * * *

  Determined, Grant mounted the stairs. Armed with cleaning supplies and a full box of trashbags, he was prepared to battle the mess in the attic. There was so much junk up there, he didn’t think his grandfather hadn’t known what it contained.

  With Natalie absorbed in her collection the last two weeks, Grant decided it was time to haul stuff out of the attic, cleaning, organizing the items into “save” and “dispose of” piles.

  It amused him, the different items that his ancestors had thrown up here. Next to mountains of trash were beautiful antiques, tables, rugs, and crystal lamps that could grace a museum, only to be followed by boxes full of old newspapers, no doubt saved for recycling and then never brought out.

  His grandfather’s journals never mentioned Adele, but Grant still hoped to find more clues in the attic. It was possible that there was a stash of items somewhere else in this mess.

  With a sigh, he took out a trash bag, carefully picking up the dead rat through the bag before securing it. That had been the second one. He could only imagine how many more were up here.

  Moving aside a scarred table, he picked up a crystal lamp, dusty but remarkably still intact. He’d have to find a place for it downstairs.

  He hesitated grabbing the lonely canvas bag against the wall. With the vermin up here, he knew better than to put his hand inside when something might have made it its home. He debated throwing it out as a whole, but he couldn’t let it go without knowing what was inside.

  He dumped the pack upside down, dislodging the contents in a waterfall. Fortunately, no rats, dead or alive, fell out of the bag. It contained mostly papers, though there was a pencil stub, a lighter, and a deteriorating pack of cigarettes mixed among the pages.

  He chuckled, wondering which ancestor it had belonged to. Gathering up the pages again, he didn’t take time to read through them until a date caught his eye.

  1944.

  The smile left his face as he looked at a letter addressed to his grandfather, signed by Adele Cunningham.

  He moved into better light, squinting to read the faint curvy script.

  Eyes widening, he shoved the letter closed. He needed to find Natalie.

  Natalie’s brace had been removed a week ago and she relished moving around without restriction or pain.

  She’d been working like a maniac, sewing and redesigning until she collapsed, barely able to give Grant coherent conversation. She was possessed by the collection, working until ideas were purged, brought into fruition.

  And it was almost done.

  Perhaps once she was finished, she could face what had happened between her and Grant. She hadn’t told him that she loved him, wasn’t sure she should. What were their options at this point? He was traditional. He’d want marriage.

  Is that what she wanted? With pins held in her lips, she paused hemming a pair of pants.

  The answer to marriage had always been a resounding ‘no,’ and the fact that she even contemplated it startled her.

  Love was one thing, but marriage was something entirely different. She had silently acknowledged her love for Grant a couple weeks ago, but nothing had changed since then. She still made her own choices, did what she pleased. Granted, she did pause to consider his feelings in most of her decisions, but that was only because she was considerate. Not because she had to.

  She didn’t have to do anything.

  Marriage changed that. Marriage required vows, contracts, and obligations that she wasn’t willing to make.

  It was too much to process now. There would be time. Plenty of it once she finished this.

  Shutting away her thoughts, she focused on the pants. Once she finished the collection, she could then figure out what to do about Grant.

  Thirty minutes later, she eyed the black fabric before nodding, pleased with the end result. Standing, she rubbed her back, tight from hunching over for so long.

  She glanced at her watch, realizing it was later than she’d thought. Maybe Grant would be free to have a late dinner with her.

  Before she could grab her things, he entered the barn.

  “I was about to go find
you,” Natalie said. “I just finished the last garment.” She laughed in triumph.

  “That’s great.” He smiled as he approached, but it never reached his eyes. He dropped the red sweatshirt he was carrying on the table. “I thought you might be cold out here.”

  “Thanks,” she hedged. “Grant, what’s wrong?”

  Exhaling heavily, he said, “I’m sorry. This probably isn’t the best time to give this to you, but it can’t wait.” He held up a yellowed letter.

  Recognizing her grandmother’s handwriting, Natalie’s mouth fell open. “Where did you find that?”

  “In the attic.”

  “I thought we went through Edward’s things already.”

  “We did. But I’ve been cleaning it out. I found his pack. This letter was inside.”

  “Did you read it?” His nod was grim, ushering a flair of unease through her.

  He handed her the letter. “Read it.”

  Her hand was steady as she took the letter, but she shook inside.

  The paper whistled as she opened it, the breath whooshing from her lungs when she saw the tear-splattered pages.

  Dearest Edward,

  I don’t know how else to say this. I’ve had a miscarriage. I’ve lost our baby. The grief is eating at me. I haven’t been able to eat nor sleep. I can only cry at the loss. Our baby. He didn’t even get a chance at life, won’t experience the wonders that it holds. He’ll never know love or grief, happiness or sadness. It pains me. Hurts me to the depths of my soul.

  I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live with this pain, with the loss. It will always be with me as long as you are in my life. When I think of you, when I look at your picture, I only think of the life we created. That will never change.

  I’m not strong enough to bear this. I don’t care if it makes me a coward. All I can think of is surviving.

  I’m sorry, my love. I’m sorry I am making the decision for the both of us. There isn’t any other choice for me. You will live in my heart, always. Know that I love you.

  Adele

  Natalie’s head rose, her tear-streaked face blotchy. “This was it? There wasn’t anything else?”

  Grant shook his head, his face pinched with emotion. “No. I searched through the rest of the papers before coming to you. This was it. This was how it ended.”

  Natalie gripped the letter to her heart as she crumbled.

  Taking her by the arms, Grant lifted her to his chest, holding her tight as if that would hold her together.

  “I can’t believe it. A baby?” Natalie sobbed. “I can’t believe she gave up. Threw away everything that she believed in. Everything she loved.”

  “Maybe she didn’t have another choice.”

  “Of course she had a choice. She could have stayed. She could have married him, had a life with him.” She pushed away from Grant, tears streaming down her face, but she had to stand alone. Had to support herself right now. “All these years I thought she didn’t remarry because she had been too heartbroken over my grandfather. But that isn’t true. She loved Edward so much she couldn’t live with it. She was weak. And she regretted it her whole life.”

  “Natalie, don’t cry anymore.” Grant’s voice was hoarse as he dried her tears. “Please. I can’t take seeing you cry.” He kissed her salty cheeks.

  “I can’t help it.” Her breath was shaky. “I just don’t understand.”

  “Don’t think about it anymore. Let me hold you.”

  “I can’t. If I let you, I won’t be able to stand on my own.”

  “You don’t need to stand on your own. I’ll hold you up.”

  Her head shook forcefully. “No. I can’t let you do that. I’m responsible for my own feelings.”

  Grant gripped her arms, shaking her. “Don’t you get it? I love you. I love you with my whole heart and this is ripping me to pieces. I want to support you. I want to take care of you. I want to marry you and have you lean on me for the rest of our lives.”

  “What? Marriage?” A flash of pain crossed his face. “I can’t do this now. I can’t deal with this. After what I just read of my grandmother I can’t talk about marriage.” She turned blindly, searching for the door.

  “So that’s it? You’re leaving? You can’t deal with it so you’re just giving up? Just like your grandmother?” She closed her eyes against the desperation in his voice.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Grant. I just need to take care of myself right now. I need some time.”

  “Fine. Take all the time you need. I won’t sit here and beg you to stay.”

  “I would never expect you to.”

  He headed toward the door before turning back to her, his shoulders sagging. “All right. I’m begging. I love you, Natalie. Please stay.”

  “Please don’t, Grant. Don’t do this.”

  His jaw clenched before he nodded, walking out the door.

  Sinking to the planks, she cried until she was heaving for breath. Jerking on the red sweatshirt, lungs burning, she ran out of the barn and into the dark orchard, running through the trees until she couldn’t go anymore.

  Spent, she flopped under a tree, her thoughts racing faster than her heart.

  Grant wanted to marry her.

  That one thought circled in her mind over and over. He wanted to spend his life with her, for them to belong to one another.

  Her mind rebelled against that thought. No matter how much she loved Grant she couldn’t give herself over to him, to be bound to him legally, to give him rights over her future choices.

  She could never be that woman who needed to ask permission to do something. No man was going to swoop in and take that from her.

  But would Grant do that? In the time that they had been together, he had never made decisions for her. Ever.

  He had accused her of running like her grandmother had. Was that what she was doing? Was she pushing him away to protect herself or was she just scared?

  Her grandmother had given up her future with Edward because the hurt had been too great. But what if she hadn’t? What if she had leapt forward and embraced her future? She would have married Edward and likely had more children. But she ran.

  Hanging her head, Natalie admitted the truth. She was doing the same thing. She was running away from love because she was worried something might happen in the future.

  She was a coward.

  Picking up a dried leaf, Natalie twirled the stiff stem in her fingers as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  Could she take that leap? Could she give herself to Grant? Could she trust him with everything?

  She imagined his smile, the way his eyes softened while the edges crinkled. He was trustworthy. And he loved her.

  He loved her.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach. She had seen it in his eyes, had heard it in the tone of his voice.

  She’d hurt him. The thought made her heart ache. He was the one person in the world that she didn’t want to hurt.

  She loved him. Loved him with her whole heart.

  She didn’t want to make the same mistakes her grandmother made. It was obvious that she had loved Edward until the day she died. Just like she’d said she would in the letter.

  Her grandmother had lived her entire life without the man that she loved.

  When Natalie thought of living her life without Grant, her stomach turned. She couldn’t accept that. She needed him.

  She swallowed deeply. She needed him.

  Her lashes fluttered open as another tear escaped from the edge of her eye.

  The realization should have crippled her. But it didn’t. She needed him, but she still felt as strong as she did before. Still in control of her own life.

  Just because she shared her life, her choices, didn’t make her any less strong, any less capable.

  She had been living under the misconception that leaning on someone made you weak. But loving Grant didn’t feel weak. She felt strong.

  Strong in the knowledge that there was someone out there who lo
ved her and would be there to help and support her no matter what. She felt that with his love, she could accomplish anything.

  She laughed as joy filled her heart. She had been so stupid.

  Leaves crunched under someone’s boots. Burrowing in the shadows, Natalie stepped away from the path.

  She was a mess, her face blotchy and streaked with tears. She didn’t want anyone to see her in such a state.

  Relaxing a little, she saw that it was Carlos, Grant’s foreman. While she planned to remain hidden until he passed, she knew that he would be tactful if he did notice her.

  Carrying two large containers, Carlos’s gait was awkward from their weight. Finally stopping, he dropped the containers to the ground.

  Natalie’s brows furrowed. What was Carlos doing way out here in the dark with those containers?

  She knew nothing about the orchard’s day to day operations. However, it was something she’d soon become familiar with, especially when she planned on living here after marrying Grant.

  Married, she thought, shaking her head.

  Carlos uncorked one of the containers, dumping the contents on the roots of several trees.

  Her head cocked to the side. If the containers had been full, why hadn’t Carlos used one of the trucks to bring them here? The trip couldn’t have been easy.

  The scent of gasoline filled her nose.

  She gasped, muffling the sound with her hand.

  It was Carlos. He was the one sabotaging the orchard. But why?

  She needed to get away. Needed to warn Grant.

  Moving backward, her eyes never leaving Carlos’s form, she tried to tiptoe away.

  A twig snapped beneath her shoe. She froze, closing her eyes in despair.

  Carlos’s head jerked toward her before she took off at a dead run. It was pitch black in the orchard, each path looked the same.

  She chose one at random, praying that she was heading toward the house instead of away from it.

  She could hear him behind her, his breath coming in quick pants, but she couldn’t tell how far behind he was.